


Of The Past

by untilitbreaks



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Past Lives, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Character Death, Fluff and Angst, I promise you'll see it coming, I swear my writing isn't always like this, M/M, Mentioned bullying, Non-Linear Narrative, Or Is It?, Somewhat brief semishira, Tensemi is the focus though, Veeery vaguely implied past emotional abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-08 23:25:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12875286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/untilitbreaks/pseuds/untilitbreaks
Summary: Semi Eita is a perfectly happy person. He has a stable career, a home, and a partner who loves him. His friends and coworkers envy him, his family has grown to applaud him, and he's satisfied with himself. He can only continue to move forward - there's nothing standing in his way.That is, before Tendou Satori presents himself to him in the most startling way possible, and his entire world is turned upside down.Or has it been that way all along?





	1. Take Hold

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to everyone who decided to give this a shot despite the scary death tag! For those wondering, it won't be in the first chapter, and it will be heavily implied beforehand. It won't be graphic, either, but that doesn't mean that this won't be angsty.
> 
> Thank you again, and I hope that you enjoy!

The classroom was similar to ones Eita had spent his previous years in. It was colorful and bright, every inch of the walls covered in the posters plastered over them and on top of each other. There was a place for them to put their backpacks, a few bookshelves, and stacks of paper and other school supplies crammed on every shelf. 

It was nice, and cozy, and familiar. If Eita hadn’t been so nervous about starting at a new school, he might have even felt comfortable in the kind of atmosphere the room possessed. He’d agonized about what it would be like to walk into this classroom for weeks, and now that the day was finally here, it felt surreal. Eita gnawed on his bottom lip, already torn up and tasting of copper, as he surveyed the room. 

His teacher wasn’t too intimidating, he didn’t think, but he didn’t want to be noticed and would rather move as far away as possible without being addressed. He slipped farther back in the line, next to a lanky redhead. He’d gotten the feeling that he wasn’t particularly welcomed, as the new kid, and as long as he didn’t have to speak to anyone, he would be okay.

Eita wasn’t particularly surprised when his plan failed, because he’d been expecting it, even though the prospect of anybody talking to him didn’t follow the mental script he’d made for himself. He felt someone’s gaze on him and looked up to find the redhead watching him. He shivered, shrinking away, heart pounding, and he instinctively began chewing on his lip again. Blood welled up against his tongue and he cringed.

But Eita felt no inclination to walk away, so he stayed.

And then the boy spoke, and something within him clicked.

“Hey,” the boy whispered, bumping his shoulder against Eita’s. Eita flinched, and the boy frowned, because little kids weren’t supposed to flinch. “What’s your name? You look lonely.”

He was taller than Eita, but the way his shoulders hunched made it look like he wasn’t, and he appeared underweight. There was a certain meekness to the way he held himself, and in his expression. His eyes—as red as his hair—were wide as he waited expectantly. His appearance was about as freakish as Eita imagined his should have been, considering where he’d come from. But something was compelling Eita to respond instead of walk away, and when Eita reviewed his options, he decided that it was worth it to try.

Eita shot a glance up at their teacher, but she wasn’t paying attention. He didn’t like to break rules out of necessity, and he didn’t want to be known as the kid who talked too much from the very beginning. He knew that he said things at the wrong time too often. But the boy was waiting for an answer, and even though he’d had friends at his old school, nobody had ever wanted to talk to him right away.

What was the worst that could happen?

It wasn’t like he was going to avoid the boy in the first place, anyway.

“Eita,” he whispered back, like it was some kind of secret the two were sharing, like he would never say his name to anybody else. “Nice to meet you.”

Eita had never met anyone as hungry for companionship as he was. But the boy grinned, showing his teeth, which was about how Eita’s emotions would be displayed if he had a choice, or if he even felt like he could smile like that. “I’m—”

Eita didn’t hear his name, as their teacher had started assigning seats, but he knew that he had been offered a name loud enough so that he should have been able to hear it. He murmured an apology, to which the boy’s smile only widened. He couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy at the boy’s willingness to make friends, because where he’d lived before, he’d always gotten weird looks when he’d tried to talk to people he didn't know. But his happiness was infectious, and Eita couldn’t help but smile a little when his assigned seat turned out to be right next to his.

It must have been fate.

The boy flicked his hair out of his eyes, which Eita thought was odd, considering his haircut, and turned to Eita, oblivious to any sort of attention that may be cast upon him. Eita found that he didn’t really mind. “I haven’t ever seen you around before, but if you’re new, we’re going to be best friends!”

Maybe there were people in the world who had it in them to be friendly simply for the sake of being friendly, so maybe it was okay that the boy had approached him as such.

Eita nodded contentedly, feeling no need to dispute his new friend’s claim.

* * *

Semi jerked awake with a gasp, slapping his hand over his mouth as a wave of nausea struck him. He sat up and shoved away his blanket, looking around frantically as he tried to gain his bearings, but the sudden actions only made him feel more sick.

There was nothing strange about where he was. His room looked exactly the same as it had the night before. There was nobody there, and there was no reason for him to be terrified. He’d had some strange nightmares in the past—and there were a few people he could thank for that—but this wasn’t one of them.

_There’s nothing wrong, and you’re safe here._

His head was pounding as if he’d somehow gotten a migraine during the night, but he reached for his phone to check the time anyway. His hands shook as he did so, but he swallowed past the terror that had risen up in his throat and took a deep breath.

He hadn’t woken up in such a state in months—maybe even years. But it still felt the same, the nameless sickness, immobilizing terror, and memories at the tip of his tongue.

This wasn’t a memory. He’d never experienced such a thing before, although it had possessed an uncanny resemblance to when his family had moved and he’d been forced to switch schools, he’d never met a friend who’d been able to help him through the transition. People had told him stories before, about experiencing a dream based on a memory, in which one aspect was changed. It made sense, then, that he could come up with something entirely new and apply something he’d experienced to it, vaguely. So Semi wasn’t concerned. 

It had just coincided to a sudden sickness, that was all. It wasn’t the first time he’d experienced a startlingly realistic dream. 

_I must be pretty sick if I woke up like this,_ Semi thought. He pushed his hair out of his face; it was sticking to his forehead and curling around his ears. _It’s not even that early, although I could go back to sleep if I wanted to. Isn’t it about time I got a day off from work?_

Semi grimaced. _Not like this is how I wanted to wake up on the day of, but I’ll take what I can get._

Semi stood up and walked to his bathroom, shaking away the last traces of his own perturbation as he did so. As vacuous as it seemed to do so, he couldn’t help but think about the boy in his dream. There had been an air of importance about him. People like him changed lives, but it had just been a dream. 

As nice as it would have been to have a friend like that back then, Semi hadn’t had one. He wouldn’t have forgotten a friend like him, either. He’d seemed so familiar, in away Semi couldn’t describe.

He’d probably just met someone like him before.

\- - -

Whenever Eita told his parents that he wanted to spend time with a friend outside of school, their immediate response was that they wanted to meet the parents of this friend first, and then they could arrange a date. Eita never brought friends to his house, but he hadn’t thought anything of it until a few months ago, when one of his old friends (who had yet to contact him after his moving) had asked if he could ever come and visit him.

The answer was an undisputable no. Eita had never questioned his parents before, but at this one particular time, he hadn’t been able to make an excuse for them. Was there something they didn’t want others to see? But Eita couldn’t protest. And this time the sharpness in his parents’ gazes was enough to remind him not to ask questions, so he didn’t.

Eita didn’t visit friends very often because it was awkward. He’d never been close enough to someone to know for certain that they would be waiting for him, or even wanted him there in the first place. Usually he was just excited to get out of the house, because opportunities for this didn’t come often.

But when he stepped into his new friend’s house for the first time, he was excited, comfortable, and confident, because when his parents had dropped him off—after an intense session of questioning concerning who he was going with—he’d found his friend waiting for him outside. A warm feeling had flooded through Eita’s chest at the sight of him, familiar and comfortable by his side.

Eita was certain that there wasn’t anybody else in the world who could possibly be as kindhearted as his new friend. He’d made new friends upon entering his new school, but none as definite and happy as his first. 

He hadn’t been prepared to be showered in attention by his new friend, or that he’d even have a friend in the first place. And when the boy introduced him to his parents, he realized that he hadn’t been prepared for his family to be just as nice as he was.

Eita was dreaming, he thought, as they surrounded him with their warmth. Eita dimly realized that his friend must have gotten it from somewhere, the bright eyes that told him everything he needed to know, the boisterous hand gestures, the natural, easygoing, lopsided smile. The boy’s mother greeted him with snacks, healthier than anything he’d ever had at a friend’s house before, and a pat on the head, telling him to enjoy himself and make himself at home.

That was all new, it was too new. It made Eita happy, but there was a sense of grief that went along with it, too, The boy passed him treats and knocked their knees together when Eita let his emotions show on his face too much, and there was a brief flash of fear that passed through him when he acknowledged it, until he realized that the boy wasn’t upset. 

If Eita made himself picture it, he couldn’t imagine his parents being so happy to have a friend over, even though he struggled to make friends. He was pretty sure that he didn’t resembled his parents in any way, other than their physical similarities.

“Are you unhappy?” his friend ended up asking him, nudging Eita repeatedly. It wasn’t too bothersome, and it didn’t make Eita nervous like it had on the first day.

Eita wished that he could explain, but he couldn’t put it in words even for himself. He couldn’t possibly hope that his friend would understand, or come up with a way to help Eita.

Not that Eita needed help, because he was _fine._

“No,” Eita said, because it was the only way he could tell the boy that it was okay, that he was okay. He supposed that an explanation could wait, if his friendship with him lasted that long.

“Good,” his new friend said. He grinned at Eita, the same grin that had drawn Eita towards him when they’d first met, and Eita knew that it was genuine, and that there was a lot he meant by it.

Eita didn’t need to hear it in words, if his friend could make him happy without him telling him what was wrong.

It was only fair that the boy was able to draw another smile out of him. Eita found that he wouldn’t mind if he never had a reason to stop, even though he was hurting otherwise and he couldn’t convey that to his friend, who had done so much for him.

Nobody had ever treated Eita that way before.

* * *

It had been almost a week since Semi had woken up from his last dream, but this time wasn’t any different. He gulped in air uncertainly, adrenaline coursing through him unwarranted. 

A feeling of dread lodged itself in the pit of Semi’s stomach even as he resigned himself to further wakefulness. There was a certain strangeness about waking up like this, a feeling of déjà vu, of a sudden revelation, rather than familiarity. A prickle of unease crawled up his spine. 

_I’ve had continuous dreams before. This is just one of those. It’s_ normal.

Semi winced as he sat up. The same intense nausea plagued him, the cause of which Semi felt must have been similar to anxiety. And the grief—Semi had to assume that he was just tired, or maybe it was a residual feeling from a dream he couldn’t remember. He’d experienced enough grief to last a lifetime, but this felt different.

Like loss, like something was missing, like something had been taken away from him.

Semi shook away those thoughts. A dream wasn’t going to hurt him, and it was childish to think that it would one day come to reality, especially dreams composed of just a few brief memories. Despite the startling clarity of the dreams, he couldn’t control his thoughts or actions—so he wasn’t experiencing it in real time.

_Then why is it so easy to picture the sequence of events that led me to each?_

_No! This isn’t me, no matter how exact every detail seems._

Semi forced himself to stand up, but swayed on his feet. The physical strain was enough to convince him that he was merely sick. It wasn’t a far-fetched idea to believe so, especially when compared to his possible alternatives. There _couldn’t_ be alternatives.

_Someone from work must have gotten some kind of bug, and I’m the unlucky person to catch it twice._

I can handle it. I can work. I’m fine.

 _I was hurt enough for recurrence. This is_ fine.

\- - -

“I’m going to play volleyball,” Eita announced as the boy plopped down next to him. He rolled his pencil between his fingers and chewed on the eraser at the end. “I have an older brother that plays and my parents said that I can sign up now, so I’m going to do it.”

The boy looked up at him in surprise, eyes widening. “Really?” He paused, a thoughtful expression adorning his face. “That’s cool.”

Eita had never heard his friends talk about sports, but he didn’t seem like the type, so he hadn’t been expecting it. Volleyball wasn’t the most common sport for their school, but Eita planned on sticking with volleyball, not just trying it out. He had no idea if his friend would be willing to make that commitment with him.

But nobody else had ever made him so comfortable trying something new, and he didn’t want to go into it alone, so maybe it would be worth a shot to ask.

“I was thinking that maybe you could try playing with me one day before the season starts.” Eita leaned back against the tree he was sitting under and glanced at his friend out of the corner of his eye. If his friend needed some convincing, he could handle that. “If you liked it, maybe you could join the team with me. And you’re really tall, too, so you’d be good at it.”

His friend’s face lit up, and he drew up his knees underneath him, leaning on Eita’s shoulder for a brief moment, and Eita knew that he’d won him out. “Sure, Eita-kun. Volleyball is fun.”

Eita felt light, very light, and he couldn't control the grin that spread over his face. “I don't want to do it alone, and you've always been with me, so…”

His friend nodded, and he looked at him with curiosity evident on his features. “Do you know anyone else who’s going to play?”

Eita had never had the heart to tell his friend outright that he was his only real friend, and the only one he'd ever been so close to. The boy must have picked up on it by now, since he was the one he talked to more than anybody. Eita only shook his head. The boy would understand eventually.

“That's okay,” the boy said, with hesitation that almost went unnoticed by Eita. His smile suddenly looked slightly forced, and there was a touch of anxiety in his tone. Eita didn’t know why that would make him upset. He should feel special, if anything. “I don't like meeting new people all that much, but I'll have you!”

“Oh. But you introduced yourself to me first.”

The boy shrugged. He looked up and met Eita’s eyes firmly, trustingly.

“I just had a feeling that I should.”

* * *

The next time, Semi was ready.

He’d feared that he would be subjected to a dream today, of all days, but he was prepared. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply.

So maybe there was something special about his dreams. But it wasn’t something that was having a real influence on him, so what was the real harm in it? In watching to see what happened?

It wasn’t normal for a person to entertain himself in such a series of dreams, but Semi couldn’t say he’d ever been a strict follower of rules. He’d dreaded this dream for the two weeks he’d gone without experiencing one, wondering why, and how, even though he’d tried not to.

Trying, in this case, had only made the situation more unbearable.

Semi got out of bed and made his way to the kitchen for a drink. It would do no good to continue dwelling on something he couldn’t control.

He didn't make it far, though, before running into his debatably more-than-a-roommate, Shirabu Kenjirou. He jumped, and Kenjirou winced in pain, rubbing his shoulder where Semi had hit him.

Semi hadn’t noticed before that he was trembling, and now as he hid his hands behind his back, he knew that it seemed suspicious.

“Is something wrong?” Kenjirou asked, concern lacing his features. He rubbed at his eyes—something he only did when he was tired and wasn’t expecting Semi to tease him for it, so Semi was surprised that Kenjirou had noticed his state. “You aren't usually up this early.”

Semi’s breath hitched as he looked at Kenjirou There was nobody he trusted more than him, so why did he feel the need to hide a series of dreams from him, dreams Semi couldn’t even think much of himself? He’d known Kenjirou since high school, and he’d seen every side of him by now. The most that would happen was that Kenjirou laughed it off and told him that he was being ridiculous, and make Semi feel better about the whole experience.

“Nothing’s wrong. I was just going to get a drink,” he murmured.

“You're pale, Eita. Are you sure you're okay? You've been looking sick lately,” Kenjirou said with a frown. He held a hand up to Semi’s forehead, but Semi swatted him away, catching his wrist.

“I'm fine. Sorry I worried you,” Semi said. His voice was steady, but his mind was racing—had it really been so obvious how he’d been feeling? Had he really done such a poor job in covering it up? Semi brought Kenjirou’s hand to his lips and kissed his knuckles. “I'll be back to bed and we can spend some time together before my first class. How would that be?”

Kenjirou rolled his eyes, but stood on the tips of his toes and returned the kiss. “Okay, since you promised.”

Semi breathed a soft sigh of relief when Kenjirou passed by without further suspicion. Kenjirou would provide him a good distraction, but he needed to get himself together first, if he was going to be convincing. 

He wondered if he couldn't have trusted the boy in his dreams with something as delicate as this—but he wasn't real, anyway.

\- - -

Eita was positive that his friend’s best characteristic was his smile. 

In general, he was friendly to everyone, and attempted to sport a good sense of humor, although some people tended to think that he was weird rather than believing that he just had an open mind. This, Eita thought was unfair, because his friend treated people much better than he was treated in return on a regular basis. Even Eita could see that.

It took Eita several months, however, to realize the extent to which this held true.

When he wasn’t around, his friend was shoved around a bit, talked down to, and ridiculed. It took several months for Eita to realize that his best friend was was being bullied because he hid it so well, hiding his emotions behind a genuine smile that he put up for Eita. He was hurting, but he hadn’t wanted to let Eita comfort him.

The scariest part about it, Eita thought, was that he never would have learned of this had his friend not come clean to him about it. 

Eita had been ready to offer him the same companionship he’d given him when he’d needed it in the past when he did so.

He did, after all, have a degree of experience in the matter. Even though he felt terribly guilty for not being a better friend and noticing before.

His friend drew in a deep breath, putting his face in his hands. He didn’t like crying in front of Eita, and Eita thought that maybe he was part of the reason why he was crying in the first place. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, and Eita thought he’d imagined it. It was so like him to apologize, thinking he’d disrupted something Eita loved.

“Don’t apologize,” Eita said. He ran the tips of his fingers down the boy’s shoulder, briefly, not knowing if it was welcome. “You know you didn’t cause this.”

The boy hiccupped a sob, and Eita didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms tightly around him.

* * *

Semi woke up feeling warm.

Semi wasn’t scared, although he felt bad for the red-haired boy in his dreams. His childhood hadn’t been particularly pleasant, like Semi’s. The boy was more like an imaginary friend than a cause for worry.

That made sense. When Semi was younger, he would have done anything for a friend that understood him on that level. He’d been lucky to come across Kenjirou when he was older, although he still regretted that lost time.

Somehow, Semi had gotten the impression that this wasn’t where their story ended.

Now he only had to trust his instincts.

For a moment, Semi had thought that he’d gotten over the sickness that seemed to come along with his dreams—he didn’t dream now, other than these times—but as he continued thinking about his friend, the worse he felt. He gritted his teeth and tried to think past it. There was nothing he could do but get up and move around.

_It’s just because I’ve noticed it that I’m feeling it. I need to stop making myself feel so paranoid._

A realistic enough dream could probably make someone feel sick—like a virtual reality roller coaster, even though the logic didn’t quite match up.

Semi would probably get himself into trouble if he continued jumping to conclusions he didn’t need to make. It wasn’t like he hadn’t done so before. If he let his own irritation win him over, he’d believe anything.

_Dreams don’t give you fever symptoms that last all day. They don’t make you wake up in debilitating physical pain._

Kenjirou let out a soft sigh from where he was lying next to Eita, face pressed into his pillow and one hand curled around the first few fingers on Eita’s left hand. Guiltily, Semi squeezed his hand. Kenjirou didn’t respond, still too deep in sleep. That was probably for the best. Semi was a mess and he knew it, and he knew that it would disturb Kenjirou.

He didn’t need to disturb Kenjirou by worrying him, either. Kenjirou would probably be hurt if he found out that Semi was more emotionally connected to an imaginary friend than Kenjiro.

Not that Semi was going to call it that, because it wasn’t true.

If his dreams were trying to tell him something, than he would have to stick around until the end. What harm could it do, after all?

\- - -

“I haven’t chosen a name for her yet,” the boy said, He held a small toy out in front of the kitten, who swatted it with one paw. He smiled—Eita almost let out an audible sigh of relief. “My parents think I’m crazy for wanting to use an anime reference. So I’m going to use a manga reference instead.”

Eita laughed. He reached over and stroked the kitten, hesitantly. He wasn’t a cat person, and as far as he knew, neither was his friend, but he’d put up with it. He’d always wanted a pet and had cherished the responsibility of owning even the single goldfish his parents had allowed him to have. “Then I won’t be of much use with coming up with a name,” he said.

The boy shook his head. “Nah, you’re always useful, Eita-kun.” His smile was fond, although he wasn’t looking directly at Eita. It still warmed his chest comfortably, even though it wasn’t the most well articulated thing the boy had ever said. “My parents say that getting a kitten will sort of be like therapy. Having something to take care of, you know?”

Eita nodded. He’d been worried about his friend for a while now, ever since he’d found out that he was being bullied. He’d promised him that he wouldn’t tell his parents about what was happening, but they’d found out the general gist of it on their own shortly after Eita had.

Eita didn’t think that the problem could be solved so quickly, but he would do anything to speed up the process, even when that included waiting impatiently.

“She’s not exactly a therapy animal,” the boy continued, voice soft. He continued playing with the kitten, who rolled over, soft paws batting in the air comically. “But she has the same effect. It’s nice. Kind of like having you around, Eita.”

Eita didn’t see how he ever could have been that helpful to his friend, or altered his mood that much, but it felt good. Eita had never really thought that he was anything special, but as long as his friend was happy, he was happy. He didn’t know how to show verbally how grateful he was for his friend, so he scooped up his new kitten and gave her a tight hug.

* * *

When Semi had woken up that morning, he hadn't acknowledged his dream. He'd gotten up, ignored his sickness, addressed the chores he’d had piling up, paid his bills, and went out on a date with Kenjirou. 

Out of the two of them, Kenjirou was the dreamer. He’d chosen his high school not because he’d been invited on a scholarship, or because it was where he should have succeeded the best. But he’d made it so that he would. Out of the two of them, he was the creative one. He appreciated the metaphorical significance of magic.

Semi didn’t believe in magic. He didn’t believe in alternate universe, or anything remotely supernatural. His world was as black and white as it could be without crossing the border to ridiculousness—or Semi losing his temper.

Today, though, he asked about it, just to make conversation. 

A person’s memories were stored through the intricate neurological connections they formed throughout their lifetime. Technically, they were a blank slate when they were born, at least when concerning memories. 

But when did these connections really begin to form? And how could they be altered? What happened when they were?

“Well,” Kenjirou said, “scientifically, or theoretically?”

Semi’s most significant memories were those that had taught him something, as unpleasant as this had been in some cases. They involved people who meant something to him. Or they were based off of insignificant snippets of time, meaningless reminders, or fragments of songs.

Dreams dictated a simple sequence of events. These were dreams. Kenjirou had answered that question.

_I need a name for this boy._

\- - -

"You know, Eita-kun, you don't give yourself enough credit," his friend said, doodling on the side of his math homework page. From this angle, Eita couldn’t see what it was, but he had a few guesses. "You hate algebra, but you make it sound easy."

"Do I?" Eita asked absentmindedly. He couldn't concentrate on his own work when the boy had his right hand—well, the first few fingers of it—resting over Eita's. It was a friendly gesture, but Eita was still strangely worked up about it. He swallowed and hoped his voice wasn't shaky when he said, "That's good, I guess."

He shot their hands another look, heart pounding, and the boy gave him a sly look, curling his fingers slightly. He knew exactly what he was doing, but Eita wondered if he knew what kind of effect he was having on him.

The boy went back to drawing. "Of course. I mean it. Now, you could use some work in English, but couldn't we all?"

Eita rolled his eyes. He was only pretending, because it wasn’t a viable insult anyway. Eita's English grades were better than his were, anyway, just because he actually payed attention.

His friend began humming. Eita wasn’t really paying attention, but he thought that he might have recognized the tune. His friend picked up his homework, apparently now completed, and slid it into a folder—Eita’s eyes flicked to the top of the page, skimming over the kanji.

“We should do this more often. I like having you here to do homework and stuff.”

"It's nice," Eita agreed, almost sluggishly. To reach for his own folder, he turned away from his friend, who insistently reminded him of his presence when he curled another finger around one of Eita's."I might be able to get my parents to say yes to having you over someday. Hopefully."

Eita’s parents probably wouldn’t approve of how close he’d grown to his best friend, but Eita couldn’t truly bring himself to care.

The boy smiled, and Eita immediately relaxed. "Aww, you don't have to worry about that. That'd be awesome, but I'm happy being with you wherever we are."

* * *

Eita woke up with a name on his lips and a longing in his chest.

_Satori._

_I_ know _that name._

The heavy weight of regret and guilt pressed down on Eita’s chest. Satori wasn’t real; he couldn’t be. And yet Eita was yearning for him as if he could somehow bring him to him anyway, as if he could simply add another person to his life like that and expect nothing to change.

Semi shook his head. He stared up at the ceiling unseeingly. No. That wasn’t right. He didn’t want to change anything but the confusion he was now experiencing on an increasingly regular basis. That, and he still felt frustrated with himself for dwelling on a series of dreams for so long. 

He was a successful person in life. He lived comfortably—he had a job, a decent place to live, and someone to love him, which was more than what he knew many other people had. He was grateful for that much, and had never expected anything more, and nothing could change that so drastically in such a short period of time.

Even if his dreams were fictional, it wasn’t normal to build up such an elaborate fantasy. It wasn’t fair.

It was about time he did something to stop the dream sequence once and for all. He didn’t need closure, or a happy ending.

He had a feeling that there wouldn’t be a happy ending anyway, whether he liked it or not.


	2. And Don't Let Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "History repeats itself, but in such cunning disguise that we never detect the resemblance until the damage is done." - Sydney J. Harris

Eita didn’t always set quicks, but when he did, he sent them to Satori.

When Eita and Satori had arrived at Shiratorizawa’s junior high, Eita’s style of volleyball had been very simple. Since he’d seriously begun improving in junior high, alongside an ace like Wakatoshi, Eita’s style naturally developed into one that focused on drawing out the power of the ace, which included many basic, high tosses.

But there were times in which Eita’s pride got the better of him. Eita knew that he shouldn’t be selfish, and shouldn’t take advantage of Wakatoshi’s power and reputation, but he hadn’t been able to stop himself when he changed his mind at the last second and sent a quick towards Satori, straight down the center, through the opposing team’s offence.

There was a split second in which Satori flailed as he processed the toss, his already terrible form collapsing because he’d assumed that he would be a decoy, but he hit the toss anyway, scoring the final point with an uncontrollable grin on his face.

Wakatoshi didn’t even look disappointed, although Eita had promised him that he’d toss to him when it mattered most. And in this situation, Eita had wanted to close out the match with Satori, the other team expecting the toss to go to Wakatoshi.

It was much too risky, and Eita arguably had too much pride in himself. There was no reason, with such a point gap, for Eita to pull out one last trick and confuse their opponents even further. Eita did have to admit that Oikawa’s expression was quite humorous, but there had been something special about the toss going to Satori and not Wakatoshi and Eita desperately hoped that Satori had picked up on it.

If anyone asked, his decision was mostly because Kitaichi had become almost bloodthirsty for Wakatoshi at this point. Eita would be scolded anyway, though, because Shiratorizawa wasn’t to be scared away by a three-person block.

It was worth it.

Shiratorizawa had been destined to win the match against Kitagawa Daiichi from the start. There had been no question about it. But Satori’s expression was enough to tell Eita that he was still thoroughly elated by their win.

Satori pranced over and threw his arms around Eita, grinning widely. Satori was repeating something over and over again, but Eita couldn’t distinguish it from the cacophony of the crowd and the roaring of blood in his ears.

Eita couldn’t have cared less about being chided for his actions. His pride might be a little wounded, but that was nothing he wouldn’t trade for a secured spot at Nationals.

Or the opportunity to make Satori smile like that again.

* * *

_No. No, no, no, no, no._

_It can’t be—!_

Semi knew that it was. He was trembling uncontrollably, a dull ache setting in through his entire body. 

Shiratorizawa had marked one of the most difficult periods of time in Semi’s life, socially and emotionally. He’d struggled in ways he never had before in his high school years. Coming out of them relatively successful, with his school name to brandish as he continued onward, had been something that he’d always been proud of.

He knew Shiratorizawa. He could remember his experiences from there like they were from yesterday—he could remember junior high, too, and the moments in his third year leading up to his high school experience.

He could _feel_ this Shiratorizawa just as clearly. 

He couldn’t put it into words—but he _knew_ that Kenjirou would be there, that all his old teammates would be there. He knew that they’d go to Nationals every year but fail to in his third. He knew a million other things that he shouldn’t, that he couldn’t possibly know, and it was terrifying.

Premonition. That was the only way Eita could describe it, and the feelings applied to every aspect of his dreams. 

Something was going to happen to Satori, but Eita didn’t know what.

He thought that he’d gotten used to it. He’d thought that he could expect the sensation, that he’d become accustomed to waking up and having to deal with sickness, with a lingering headache that lasted half of the day and a stomach ache that made it hard to eat until late that day, if at all. 

Semi didn’t know what was bothering him, never mind how—the dreams weren’t even unpleasant compared to what they could be, but the heaviness of them, the nostalgia, the pain lurking underneath, was too much to bear.

Semi didn’t know if he wanted it to last forever. The dreams didn’t make him happy, but they occupied a space in his life that Semi hadn’t even known had existed.

But what was he supposed to do? What could he do, when it seemed too late to turn back now?

\- - -

Eita couldn’t help but feel a little nervous for Shiratorizawa’s first group trip.

It would only be the first years, who were already becoming close friends after only a few months. It had been Satori who had proposed the idea of getting together outside of school, and when his teammates and new friends had readily agreed, there was no stopping him.

Eita found that he couldn’t say no, especially when considering his own desire for Satori to get out and make new friends other than himself and Wakatoshi.

Eita also found himself getting along well with his new teammates, who were quickly becoming more than just that. They were the people he sat with at lunch, the ones he worked with in class, and the ones he asked for advice from.

Of course, Satori would always be the most important. Satori was the one who had made the biggest impact on his life, making Eita feel welcome and happy and many other emotions that Eita was slightly embarrassed to admit, especially now that he realized that Satori was just as physically affectionate with other people as he was with Eita.

Satori probably had some sort of plan, but Eita wasn’t going to be the one to tell him no.

So Eita did like his new teammates and enjoyed spending his time with them, but that didn’t erase his nerves when it came to making plans. A lot had changed since he’d first started hanging out with Satori, and this was very much still affiliated with school, but Eita had never felt so independent before. 

Eita would much rather use his independence with Satori.

The Shiratorizawa first years had decided on going to a movie, which they let Wakatoshi decide because nobody else could agree on one. Eita and Satori had met up before meeting the rest of the team, and Eita could practically feel the excitement radiating off of Satori. He was skipping as they walked, and had gone so far as to link arms with Eita. How obnoxious.

“What do you think, Eita? Will they be late? My bet’s on Hayato-kun, he’s always so forgetful. Reon will want to wait for him and Wakatoshi-kun will be right on time,” Satori prattled on in his ear, as vibrant as ever.

Satori was a whirlwind and he’d caught Eita up in it all too easily.

“We won’t know that, Satori, unless we hurry it up ourselves,” Eita reminded him sternly. They were running late, because Satori had had to run back into his room at least three times before he was certain that he was ready to meet the team. He could tell Eita that he wasn’t nervous, but it was one of the biggest lies he’d ever told.

“Of course, Eita-kun! You should have picked me up earlier!” Satori teased. His voice was giddy with excitement, and Eita knew that it was becoming infectious.

Maybe trying new things wasn’t so bad after all. They had all the time in the world to find themselves.

* * *

As soon as Semi woke up, he stumbled to the bathroom, almost throwing up.

If Kenjirou had seen him in this state, he’d panic. If anyone knew what was causing it, they would panic, too. 

Semi panted as he leaned against his bathroom sink. He couldn’t bear to look at himself in the mirror, because he already knew that he’d lost some weight since the dreams had started, and he’d been much more tired recently. His dreams had been occurring more rapidly, but with greater intensity, and Semi had thought that he’d been done with the sickness.

He was very, very wrong.

With trembling hands and quivering nerves, Eita cancelled his plans for the day. All it took was a simple, honest, apologetic text to Wakatoshi and Hayato and Reon and it was done, although it seemed greater than that.

He thought that he would have had a harder time cancelling if Satori was involved.

Satori wasn’t real. Semi couldn’t manipulate his dreams so that he had more time with him, or so that he could try to glean more answers. But that didn’t stop Eita from hoping, so foolishly, that something would change.

Eita dismissed Wakatoshi’s response without reading it, slumping to the ground, pressing his back up against the wall. 

He had a few options. He could consult someone, or try something completely familiar and mundane. He didn’t know how to describe his symptoms, the sickness, the dreams, the emotions that were coupled with them, but he could try.

He didn’t have a choice. Not with Shiratorizawa there. It seemed foolish to try and research his problems, but the idea was strangely thrilling to him, and he typed rapidly, getting straight to the point. He’d never tried to rationalize his problem in words, and the result now was horrific.

He didn’t know how much time had passed before the shaking in his hands had stopped and his nausea subsided, and his emotions were replaced with numbness.

_Soulmates._

\- - -

“Eita-kun! I really think you should read this,” Satori said, plopping down beside Eita.

Eita hated studying, and he also knew that Satori would do everything within his power to put off studying, but Eita didn’t feel like fooling around when their finals were nearing at such a fast pace. If he was to be reading anything, it should really be a textbook, not manga, even though Satori had been blubbering about this particular series for weeks.

Eita flipped a page in his notebook and began writing an equation on the next page. “I can't right now.” It was the truth, but it still hurt to say, even though Eita wasn't actually interested.

“That's what you always say! Can't you take a break from studying? At least for one chapter?” Satori begged, pouting. He poked Eita’s shoulder continuously, and Eita was almost glad that Satori wasn't his roommate. “Lighten up a little. Graduation’s soon!”

Eita gave him a playful shove. “That's my point, Satori. I have to study. And so do you, if you actually want to graduate.”

Satori mock-gasped, putting his hand over his heart. “Mom Friend Eita reared his ugly head, and today, I’m his target—OWCH!” 

Eita shoved him again, and he landed with a _thump_ on the floor. He looked up at Eita with a positively _wounded_ expression, crossing his arms.

“I'll consider reading a chapter if you do your work,” Eita said without looking at him. He began scrubbing again, but he couldn't really focus. “And possibly leave me alone until I finish mine.”

Satori’s face lit up, and Eita looked at him blankly. Eita swallowed. It was much easier to conceal his emotions than to tell Satori the truth. “I'll go, if you want!” Satori chattered, unaware of Eita’s dilemma. “Or, I could stay. Whatever you want!”

Eita considered this for a moment. If Satori did stay, even if he was quiet, he'd still serve as a major distraction to Eita. But if he left, Eita would feel guilty.

And besides, how much time would they have left with each other graduation?

“Stay,” Eita said, and he did.

* * *

 _I miss you,_ Semi thought.

With every dream, Eita reached for something that wasn’t there, and that he would never obtain. If Eita wanted to chase after him, he would never find him. Of this, Eita was certain.

Satori was the best friend Semi had never had. He wasn't the solution to all of Semi’s problems, but he knew where to find the solutions. He was the one who was meant to know Semi inside and out and support him in every way he could. But Semi was never going to have that.

 _It's too late,_ Eita thought, as too-familiar nausea hit him and he doubled over in pain.

But did he really want Satori, when the addition of the dreams to his life had torn him apart? He’d been completely satisfied before they’d begun, and now he was just paranoid.

There was a reason why he and Satori hadn’t reunited in this life, and Semi didn’t have long to figure out why.

And Kenjirou was proof of why he was probably too late to bring Satori back.

\- - -

It wasn’t until after they’d received their diplomas that Satori slipped a piece of paper into Eita's hand, but Eita had been expecting it.

He read the note on it, smudged and barely legible through Satori's messy scrawl. He smiled and ripped it up into tiny pieces. Satori had already said his goodbyes to classmates, besides the volleyball team, who were planning a graduation party. Eita would have to meet up with his parents at some point, but for Satori, everyone could wait.

It didn't take Eita long to find Satori at their favorite meeting place—atop a hill by the horse barn, where they liked to watch first years struggle to learn how to ride at the beginning of each year. Satori was sitting with his chin cupped in one hand, diploma held loosely in one hand. The sight made Eita's face feel warm, but he didn't want to let the nostalgia hit until he was home. He didn't want his last high school memory with Satori to be spent upset.

"Hey, Eita-kun."

Eita jumped. Of course Satori hadn't given any clue that he'd noticed Eita, and he'd been expecting him, but he was so tense he'd been hoping Satori wouldn't say anything.

"I guess it's time that I started to be a little more honest with you," Satori said, laughing a little. He pulled up a few pieces of grass. "I have a lot to tell you."

“Me too," Eita mumbled, sitting down next to him. It was hard to admit that there was a lot between them that they hadn't talked out, but it had never caused any tension. That frightened Eita. "You wanna start?" He didn't need to ask.

"When I first introduced myself to you, I hadn't thought that you'd become my best friend," Satori said, without looking up. His words were slow and ponderous. He sounded like he was going to cry. "You've done so much for me I don't know how to make it up to you. You've stuck by my side for all these years."

Eita knew what was coming next, but it didn't quell the thrill that ran up his spine. He swallowed past the lump in his throats and said, "Satori, you know that I—"

"Shush. I'm talking," Satori reminded gently. A smile was tugging at his lips, and it made Eita feel a little less nervous. "I'd hate to ask more of you, but I'm going to ask one more thing, okay, Eita-kun?"

Eita nodded. He didn't trust himself to speak. "Anything."

There was so much he could say, but he didn’t need words. He didn’t want to interrupt Satori, either. Eita knew what Satori felt and he knew that Satori knew it was reciprocated. The feeling had been hanging between them for months.

And their time felt so limited.

Satori took a deep breath and leaned in closer. His face was mere inches away from Eita’s, but it felt natural. “Can I kiss you?” Satori asked, and Eita nodded again, and grabbed his hand and pulled him forward.

It was a while before either of them went home that night, breathless and starry-eyed and overcome with something that could only be described as first love.

* * * 

There was no difference in the way Eita's heart raced during and after his dream, except that when he woke up, there's a touch of guiltiness that accompanied it.

Guiltiness was one word for it, as if the dreams were something like Eita's guilty pleasure, as if he could actually control them. it was detrimental to think that way. 

Satori was Eita’s best friend. He had the capacity to annoy him, to please him, and stand by him with devotion that nobody else in the world could bear.

Loving him was more natural than it was to love Kenjirou, even though Kenjirou had dedicated himself to Semi. Love for Satori fit in seamlessly along with the rest of their relationship, even if they had to fight for it.

Eita was willing to fight for it.

Eita should have been able to anticipate their eventual romance. 

There was more Eita could anticipate, and the thought made him sick.

\- - -

“You’ll text me every day, right? And call when you can?”

Eita let go of his phone, balancing it between his shoulder and his ear, as he tossed more clothes in his suitcase, brows furrowed in concentration. He should have packed days ago, not hours before he had to leave. It was simply that packing for real would make everything feel more final, and that was the last thing he wanted.

“Of course,” he ended up saying, not knowing what else there was to say. He sighed in frustration, looking up at the pile of school supplies he still had to organize. “You know, I really should have skipped taking any entrance exams and just found an apartment with you or something. I don’t think the packing is worth it.” 

What was worth it, though, was hearing Satori’s laugh through his phone, even though he’d much rather hear it in person. Nevertheless, it was loud and bright and everything that made Eita happiest. Maybe it was worth it to wait, if only to see Satori again.

“Nah, you gotta go to school,” Satori said, but Eita could tell that he was smiling. “One of us needs to be smart.”

“What do you mean? It's not like you're dropping out already,” Eita said, rolling his eyes. “You were always a class above me, anyway.”

“It's not like that,” Satori said. There was something in his voice that Eita couldn't place. It was something sad, something short, and Eita wondered if Satori wanted him to know exactly, and decided that he probably didn't. “I don't think that matters, anyway.”

It was the most dismissive Eita had heard him speak in a long time. “Oh. I'm sorry.”

“Don't apologize,” Satori said, voice clipped, but there was tension there that usually wasn't. Under normal circumstances, they both would have been able to laugh a misunderstanding off, but this was different.

They'd be lucky if they would be able to see each other a few times a month, if even that. They'd be able to spend time with each other over breaks, but they wouldn't truly be free from school during the next four years, which was even longer than the time they'd spent together in high school, in comparison. That time had flown by, but this? 

Eita suddenly felt a lot less light about the whole situation. He knew that he was slipping when his frustration was replaced by despair.

If they didn't handle this correctly, they could lose touch forever. They could lose what made their relationship special, and that was something Eita could never put value to. 

“You promise to talk?” Eita said, needlessly, voice small. 

There was beat of silence on Satori’s end before he responded, “Always.”

* * *

_I can't lose you._

Semi had a headache so bad he could see stars.

He could feel an end. The story should have been far from over, but he could feel an end.

Eita knew that he had his whole life ahead of him. But if Satori was there, there wouldn’t be an end so soon. 

Semi never thought he’d see the day when he was terrified not to have a dream rather than to have one, despite the lasting pain that came with every one, opening up a wound ingrained in his soul.

_Satori is a memory, but every fiber of my being aches uncontrollably for him._

Satori was a memory. Satori was nothing more than a memory to haunt Semi, a memory that had completely changed his life and would never stop. Semi didn't want to be left alone, he didn't want to suffer again, but he didn't have a choice. He didn't have the choice to be selfish and he should have stopped it sooner if he could have.

Could he have, if he had really wanted to? Would he have, if he could? Would he give up Satori and all of the memories and the chance to be with him again, if only for a short amount of time,just to make things easier?

Would he have given up the opportunity to allow Satori to influence the person he was all over again, because he was too weak to handle it?

\- - -

“I'm sorry,” was what Satori repeated, over and over again like a mantra even though Eita told him that it wasn't his fault. “I'm sorry,” was what he said when Eita had to leave the room because he didn't want Satori to see him cry. “I'm sorry,” was what he said when Eita kissed him for the last time.

“I love you,” were his final words, whispered so that only Eita could hear them, or maybe because he couldn't find his voice. “I love you,” were the words that Eita couldn't say, never had the time to say, and never would.

It wasn't Satori’s fault, but Eita blamed him when he was dragged out of the room by his parents, blaming him because he wasn't able to say a true goodbye even though he'd been spending too much time with him recently. His parents were worried, they had said, but Eita was worried for Satori and he had a real reason to worry, because Satori was slipping out of his grasp faster than he could gain a new hold on him.

Eita couldn't hold him forever. Satori was meant to be free.

“You told me that we'd talk,” Eita had said when he’d first seen Satori. He regretted it, but the words came on their own and Satori knew that he'd needed to vent. So he'd let Eita toss him around like he always had, let Eita bully him and blame him and took it without complaint. “You said that after college we'd have a life together.”

“I'm sorry,” Satori repeated, but his words ceased to have any purpose but to send them both into grief, grieving broken promises and futures that were no longer there.

“I’m sorry,” was what Eita remembered Satori saying, because it was what he said the most, because he hadn't wanted Eita to carry the guilt that he would never be able to experience. “I love you,” was what Eita wanted to remember, but it was far overshadowed in the howling of lost apologies that were all Eita could hear as he was forced out of the hospital.

“Don’t be scared,” Eita remembered saying, but maybe he never did say it and he would never know.

Forced away from Satori, away from the only one who had kept him grounded, away from the one who have given him a chance but would never have another chance of his own.

 _I love you,_ Eita thought, but Satori would never live to hear him say it.

* * *

Eita emptied the contents of his stomach as soon as he was able to stumble to the bathroom. He collapsed to the floor, only after being sick again, and was unable to control the tears that blurred his vision.

He couldn't control how fast his heart was racing, or how how his face felt, or the way he felt like he could faint at any moment. He could not control how Satori had affected him, and probably never would be able to get a handle on the grief that he felt.

Of course he wouldn't. If he ever had been able to, he wouldn't have experienced those dreams. He wouldn't have experienced Satori over again or been given another chance, but Eita was certain that it wasn't going to make a difference.

Eita stood up on shaky legs, trying his best to keep his trembling under control. He needed something, but he didn't know what. He needed Kenjiro, he needed Satori—he needed someone. This was a matter of life and death, but how long would it take for someone to hear his cries?

What was the point of trying to overcome Satori if he was never going to see him again? If the dreams were meant to be some sort of ending to him, and reliving the memories was supposed to be some sort of closure? Closure, so that he could have a new life with Kenjirou and be satisfied with what he had?

A soulmate was a person one was meant to spend their life with, and Eita’s had been ripped brutally away from him.

But it had allowed him to make one decision: he would never pursue Tendou Satori.


End file.
